Omega Boom
by Laburnum Steelfang
Summary: Sucker Punch-themed AU. A young man, trapped in an asylum after his uncle's tragic death, retreats into a fantastical imaginary world. Along with his friends, he plots to escape before it's too late. Contains violence, full warnings inside.
1. The Tragic Events of September

**(Okay, this fic is one of those crazy ideas which you know are going to nag at you until you share them. Ever seen the movie _Sucker Punch_? Yeah. Flagrantly AU in every possible manner. Since it's based on _Sucker Punch_, I also should warn you this fic will contain extreme violence, sexual abuse, drug abuse, and involuntary surgery. It will also contain rampant anachronism, particularly in the soundtrack, and blatant artistic license with the way mental hospitals work – given that _SP_ had Bjork playing in the 1950s and the hospital was apparently so poorly secured that the girls managed to steal knives, this is kind of par for the course. Chapter titles from songs – see if you can guess the sources! I'll reveal the last chapter's title source in each new one. Just for fun. Suggestions as to what to do in the fic are welcome, as I'd be pleased to see someone else who knows both fandoms.)**

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Tragic Events of September**

The rain pattering against the windows of the house on the moor mingled pleasantly with the sound of the teaspoon clinking on the cup. The late-September night was cold and stormy, but a roaring fire and a pot of hot tea made the inhabitants feel warm and cosy.

"Tea, Uncle Nigel?" The boy entered the living room, offering the tray. "Two sugars, is that right?"

"Yes, indeed, lad. Thank you." Uncle Nigel chuckled and settled back in his armchair, accepting the cup. He sipped the tea and peered out at the boy from under his prodigiously overgrown eyebrows. "Delicious. Well, Percy, are you still keen to listen to an old man's war stories?"

"Oh, yes, Uncle Nigel! As always," the boy chuckled, settling down in the armchair across the fireplace from his uncle.

"Before we do, have you fed your pets?"

"I always do, Uncle, you know that!" Percy mentally went over his schedule for the evening; yes, his beloved pony Princess was fed and bedded down in the stable, the lizards in the glass tank in his room tucking into their fresh insects ...

"How are your studies going, by the way?"

"Excellently, Uncle! I just finished an absolutely wonderful book about penguins – they're fascinating birds, and quite charming as well."

"Good, good. Wasn't it monkeys last week?"

"Lemurs, Uncle."

"Ah. Forgive me, I'm not as well-versed in natural history as you are ..."

At first, they thought the sound was a roll of thunder, but when it came again, they realised it was a fist battering on the front door.

"Now who could that be?" Uncle Nigel started to put his teacup aside, but Percy raised a hand and stood up.

"No, no, Uncle, I'll get it," he said, heading into the hallway. The lights flickered with a loud crash of thunder, and Percy shivered. Cautiously, he opened the front door a crack, squeaking and almost slamming it shut again when he caught sight of the dark figure standing there.

"Well, are you gonna open the door or leave me out in the rain all night?" snarled a deep raspy voice. The figure moved closer to the light of the hallway, and Percy realised it was indeed a normal human. An imposing man, though; dark hair buzzed short, long black trenchcoat, and an expression of barely-contained anger.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir!" Percy opened the door fully. "What can I do for you, if I may?"

"This the Snow residence?" the man barked.

"Y-yes, sir. Percival Snow, at your service."

"You Bill's boy?"

"Um, yes, my father was William Snow, if that's what you-"

The man shoved past Percy into the hall, his coat billowing around him, and barged through the living room doorway.

Uncle Nigel nearly dropped his teacup, but maintained an air of politeness nevertheless. "As I live and breathe – Buck Rockford!"

Nigel started to stand up, but Rockford dropped into the other armchair. "Nigel. It's been a while."

"S-shall I take your coat, sir?" Percy stammered, noticing with mild annoyance that the black trenchcoat had left a trail of drips on the carpet and must be soaking the chair.

Rockford waved him off. "That won't be necessary, kid, I'll be quick."

Nigel seemed to tense slightly. "Percy, would you mind fetching another cup of tea, please? Mr Rockford must be thirsty after his trip." Percy picked up the look on his face which filled in the message; _stay out of here._ Wordlessly, he nodded and slipped into the kitchen. He found the spot just behind the half-closed door from where he could see and hear everything in the living room without being seen himself, and watched the conversation unfold.

"Well, it's been a long time, Buck old friend."

"Let's cut to the chase. You know why I'm here, Nigel."

"Let's pretend I'm very stupid," said Uncle Nigel, not looking at the other man.

"The money! The money Bill promised me!" Rockford slammed his fist against the arm of the chair and stood up, looming over Nigel.

"That was before the ... incident."

"Dammit, you owe me! Look, it's not like I'm trying to take _everything._ I just want what was promised to me."

Nigel sipped his tea again and placed the cup on the side table, perfectly calmly. "My brother's will states clearly that all his assets are to be passed to Percival. The money is not mine to give, I'm afraid."

"That useless little nancy?" Rockford spluttered.

"That 'nancy' is my brother's son, and I'll not have him slandered in his own home, _traitor."_

"You know why I left!"

"Yes, yes, but you've been searching for Sciurius for over a decade and never found hide nor hair! You didn't even stop your wild goose chase long enough to turn up for William's funeral, and now you demand a piece of the estate?" Nigel blinked as he realised Buck's reasoning. "That's it, isn't it? The government won't pay for your hunt anymore, you've run out of your own funds – you need another source, and William was your plan."

"Sciurius is a threat to the whole damn nation and I'm the only one willing to fix it!"

"That's irrelevant, Rockford. You get my nephew's money over my dead body."

"That can be arranged." Rockford reached inside his coat and pulled out a small but serviceable handgun.

Nigel's eyes widened. "You wouldn't shoot me, old friend."

"Try me."

"Oh, Buck, you poor fool. I didn't realise your obsession had gone this far." Nigel stood up very slowly, hands raised. Percy, still hidden behind the door, felt his heartbeat racing, his blood running cold. He stayed where he was, unsure what to do.

"Call the kid. He sees you at gunpoint, he'll sign over anything."

"I think you may be underestimating Percy," said Nigel, eyes raking over the room, looking for an opportunity.

Faster than even Rockford could follow, Nigel picked up the teacup and flung the cooling dregs into the gunman's face. Buck blinked and raised a hand for just a second, and in that second Nigel dived on him, too close for him to use the gun, and caught hold of his arm. He smiled, and hissed in Rockford's ear "You certainly underestimated me."

Rockford snarled and tried to pull his gun hand out of Nigel's grip. Nigel slammed him back against the wall.

"You delusional idiot, I was in the army as well, and I'm not stupid enough to have let myself get soft!" he snapped, trying to break Rockford's grip on the gun. "Drop the damn gun, Rockford!"

Rockford swung the gun, striking Uncle Nigel on the temple with it. Nigel shouted in pain, but only redoubled his grip, bearing his whole weight down on Rockford. He caught hold of Rockford's wrist and slammed it against the corner of the mantlepiece, trying to make Rockford drop the weapon. Rockford thrust his body forward, pushing Nigel away and ramming him against the armchair.

Percy, panicking, burst into the living room and darted past them, not thinking rationally, knowing only that he had to help his uncle. The two men were too involved in their struggle to even notice him. He reached the bookcase, fumbled several books out, found the secret panel he'd promised his mother he'd never touch and his father that he'd keep for emergencies. Behind it was a compartment containing a revolver. It was loaded, and his father had always kept it oiled and functioning.

He snatched up the gun and squeezed off three shots, intending only to warn Rockford. One bullet pierced the wall. One struck Rockford in the shoulder, causing him to yell, let go of Uncle Nigel, and turn sideways towards his shooter. The final bullet had been aimed far too close and, now no longer flying at Rockford, struck Uncle Nigel in the throat.

He dropped the gun, screamed, and ran to his uncle, sure he was imagining things, Uncle Nigel couldn't be dead, not so soon after his parents, he'd survived so much surely he'd live through this ... there was so much blood, more than he'd imagined there could be in one person ... He clutched the body and rocked back and forth, wailing like a frightened child.

The edge of Rockford's hand struck his neck, and he knew no more.

* * *

When he woke up, he was lying on a bed, still bloody and dizzy, in the back of an ambulance. The doors were open and Rockford, his shoulder bandaged and arm in a sling, was sitting on the step, conversing with a paramedic and two police officers. It took Percy a while to realise his hands and feet were strapped down.

He tried to think clearly enough through the concussion and uncontrollable sobbing to explain himself to the police, but it did no good. On one side, upstanding war hero Buck Rockford, and on the other, a sad little boy, recently bereaved and terribly confused. According to Rockford, Percy had panicked upon seeing a stranger enter his home, taken the gun from the bookcase, and attacked. Rockford and Nigel had tried to take the weapon from him, and it had misfired and hit Nigel. As Rockford had dropped the gun and run to call for help, Percy had managed to fire again, hitting him in the shoulder.

Rockford and the policeman with the clipboard moved away from the open doors of the ambulance. He heard the officer say something about taking him in for the night ... no, please, he couldn't go to jail ...

"I don't think that's a good idea. The kid's out of control, he's unpredictable. I think he needs to go somewhere more secure than the station lockup ..."

The ambulance doors slammed shut and the paramedic pushed a needle into his arm, and everything went dark again.


	2. For To See Mad Tom o' Bedlam

**(Now we meet the others. I know this version of Human!Julien doesn't seem anything like his lemur self at first, but as will be established as we go along, he was very much like the lemur version _before_ he ended up in the hospital. The human version isn't as mentally resilient as the lemur version, poor guy. Usually I tend to imagine Human!Julien as being a lot older than this version – thirties-ish – but as I said, this is AU in every possible manner anyway. Not to mention this version of him is cisgendered, aheh. The doctor's eye problem is called a hyphaema, or an eight-ball fracture, well known as the injury suffered by Stuart Pot of Gorillaz. Title of last chapter was Evelyn Evelyn's "The Tragic Events of September".)**

* * *

**Chapter 2: For To See Mad Tom o' Bedlam**

Head pounding, Percy floated up from the depths of unconsciousness, unsure where he was. His head hurt, worse than any pain he'd felt before, and he was so tired he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. When he heard his name spoken in Rockford's voice somewhere above him, he decided this was a good thing; he'd keep quiet, make sure he didn't let them know he was awake yet, and see what they were planning. As he woke up more fully, the voices came into better focus. They were speaking almost in whispers, and he strained to hear them.

"... pay whatever it takes, but he needs taking care of before the trial." That was definitely Rockford's voice, slightly slurred; he must have been on a lot of painkillers to be up and about so soon after being shot in the arm.

"Well, I can certainly take care of that," said an unpleasantly smarmy voice, following up with a whistling chuckle. "But I'm afraid I can't do it right here and now, okay? See, I don't have a doctor on staff who's licensed to perform lobotomies. I'll have to bring someone in."

"License? Who gives a shit about-" snapped Rockford.

"I do, because it's not exactly something that's easy to cover up!" snapped the other man's voice. "If someone starts poking around, I have to be able to provide legitimate information about the op. I can put together some paperwork and call in a licensed doctor to do it, okay? It'll take a few days, but it'll stand up under investigation if necessary."

Buck sighed exasperatedly. "Fine. How long did you say?"

"Mm, call it five days. I'll contact you once it's done."

_Lobotomy?_ Percy tried to keep his breathing under control sufficiently not to give himself away. Fortunately, at that point he heard the door opening, covering up any tiny sound he may have made.

"Oh, hello, Doctor, Mr Rockford," said a female voice. "Is this the newest patient?"

"Ah, hello, Shawna. Yes, this is him."

The female voice sighed sadly. "He's younger than I thought. Such a shame, that poor boy."

"I know, it's tragic, but I have every confidence you'll be able to take care of him," said the doctor, so convincingly that one would never have guessed what he'd been planning moments earlier. Percy suppressed his rage. He sensed the woman leaning over him, and her voice softly saying "Hello? Are you awake yet?"

"Mm ... 'm awake," Percy murmured, eyes peeling open. When he managed to focus his eyes on the face in front of him, he wondered if he was hallucinating; the face was that of a beautiful woman, with golden hair and full soft-looking lips, and she was smiling softly at him. The nametag on her white coat read "Dr Stevens".

"Can you tell me your name, please?" she asked.

"Percy. Percival Snow."

The woman checked her clipboard. "I see. Son of William and Mercy Snow. Aged eighteen, birthday February the twenty-second. Student of biology." Percy nodded.

"Thank you, Shawna, I'll take it from here." Dr Stevens backed away and the doctor who had been talking to Buck leaned over him. He was older than Percy had guessed from his voice, with silver-grey hair slicked back against his broad skull and a rather condescending smile exposing neat white teeth. "Good morning, Mister Snow."

Percy yelped with fright as he saw the doctor's left eye. The eyeball was dark red, as if filled with blood. The doctor looked puzzled for a bit, then laughed disarmingly. "Oh, the eye? Yes, sorry about that, it is a bit of a shock. Just an old injury."

"Wh-who are you, and where am I?" Percy tried to keep the trembling out of his voice.

"My name is Dr Blauman, Mr Snow, and I'm the head doctor here at the McGrath Institute. I'm sorry to say you had a bit of a breakdown, so Mr Rockford asked that you be brought here."

McGrath ... the name was familiar. Percy shivered as he remembered the horror stories he'd spent his childhood hearing on the playground, about the McGrath Institute. As he sat up, he saw Rockford in the chair beside the bed, looking at him with an expression of faux concern that turned Percy's stomach. He felt a certain guilty satisfaction at seeing Rockford's heavily-bandaged shoulder and arm.

"He's gonna be okay?" Rockford asked.

Blauman nodded. "Yes, I think we can handle him now. Thanks for coming in."

As Rockford stood up to leave, he patted Percy's shoulder and whispered to him "Nothing personal, kid, it's for the good of the nation."

In that moment, Percy could quite cheerfully have genuinely shot him dead.

* * *

Percy got out of bed and dressed himself in the issued clothing; white vest, undershorts, and socks, grey pyjama-like shirt and slacks, and grey slippers. Dr Blauman gave him a rough rundown of the daily schedule and rules, and two orderlies escorted him down to the dining room. He took a bowl of plain oatmeal and a tin beaker of watery milk, though he didn't feel at all hungry, and glanced around for a safe place to sit and eat.

He observed the others sitting at the long tables. A hulking fellow with spiky hair, playing idly with his spoon and pausing occasionally to cough violently, sitting beside a tall thin man with reading glasses who was intently drawing something on a scrap of paper with a stick of charcoal. A dark-skinned androgynous youth, humming and twirling randomly across the floor, watched by a short round doctor and a giggling bespectacled patient who barely topped four feet. A bulging-eyed redhaired boy flicking tissue-paper pellets at two men who appeared to be holding a complex conversation with only hand gestures. Some women, as well, all on the other side of the room, as if huddling together for protection; a pretty girl with huge green eyes glanced up at him and smiled weakly.

The spiky-haired man looked up and Percy yelped. From the angle he'd seen him before he hadn't been able to see the man's face. Now he did, he noticed the scars; the man's mouth had been slit from ear to ear at some point in the past. Another scar ran down from under his eye to his jawline. Then the man smiled, lopsidedly and awkwardly; oddly enough, it somehow took away from the horror of the scars.

"Hey! New fish!" he grunted, waving at Percy like a kid greeting a new friend on a playground. The taller man beside him looked up as well.

"Oh, hello!" he said cheerfully. "Pull up a chair, kid! Nice to meet you."

Percy glanced around, but saw nowhere else to go, so he sat cautiously between the two men. "H-hello, sir, likewise. My name's Percy Snow."

"Oh, no need to call me sir!" the man chuckled, extending a hand, which Percy shook politely. "Professor Fabian Kowalski, at your service."

"Professor?"

"Yep," said the hulking scarred man, nodding to his friend. He shook Percy's hand in turn, so hard Percy was sure his arm was about to come off at the shoulder, and pointed to himself. "Rico."

"You'll have to excuse Rico, he's a man of few words," said the Professor. "English isn't his first language, and he has some throat problems. I tend to translate for him. I know he looks a bit worrying, but he's a big softy, really."

"Hey!" Rico jokingly punched Kowalski's arm, then suddenly doubled up coughing again.

Percy patted him on the back, feeling rather concerned. "Are you well, Mr Rico, sir? That cough doesn't sound pleasant."

"This, lad, is what you get from smoking. Well, that and lurking at the crime scene too long."

"Crime scene?" asked Percy, alarmed. Of course there must have been a reason Rico was in here, but he'd seemed so nice ...

"Fires!" rasped Rico enthusiastically, still coughing. He retched, gasped, swallowed, and managed to get his breath back under control.

"Yes, I'm afraid Rico here is a clinical pyromaniac. To be fair, his antics haven't killed anyone since he got back from the war, but he caused some rather impressive property damage before they caught him. Didn't you?" Kowalski slapped Rico's back amicably. Rico chuckled, and set himself off coughing again. "The doctors haven't been able to do much to help him. Thirty years of smoke inhalation will do that to you."

"Really." There didn't seem to be much else Percy could say, so instead he took a spoonful of his oatmeal. It didn't taste as unpleasant as it looked, but that was hardly saying anything. To distract himself, he glanced around at the other patients again. The dancer caught his eye. Something about him was familiar; the graceful movements, the tune he was humming ... "Is that-? That's never ... It can't be _Julien Kingsley!"_

The dancer turned around, hearing his name. "Hello, new neighbour!" he said dreamily, slinking over to them. Percy saw that Kingsley was thinner than he'd thought, the bones of his cheeks and wrists clearly visible, and his hair was greying though he couldn't have reached twenty-five yet; evidently his constant dancing used up far too much of the little energy available in the hospital food. Silvery trackmarks peered out from under his too-short sleeves, gleaming like slug trails on the soft brown skin of his wrists.

"It really is you!" Percy gasped, shaking Kingsley's hand. "I _love_ your music, Mr Kingsley! Uncle Nigel bought me your record for my last birthday! I'm very fond of your mother's, too, of course."

"Oh, hehe, thank you! When I see Mama, I shall tell her. And please, call me Julien." Much to Percy's surprise, Julien kissed his hand, and favoured him with a nearly sober-looking smile. When Julien smiled, the family resemblance was undeniable, despite his sickly look; Madame Lisette Kingsley had become famous almost as much on the strength of her beautiful smile as her music. He had her eyes as well, wide round eyes the colour of amber, currently underscored by deep shadows. He yawned and stretched like a cat. _"Excusez-moi,_ I am tired." He settled down at the table and rested his head on his arms, closing his eyes as if nobody else was there. Percy stared, struggling to reconcile this man with the lively, happy singer he'd idolised on the outside.

"Quite the surprise, isn't it?" whispered Kowalski.

Percy nodded and whispered back "I didn't know he was _here!_ The paper said he was in hospital, I thought he'd just been ill or injured and was out by now!"

"Oh yes, his mother had to throw around a lot of money to keep the gory details out of the news. Poor lad, he was never very bright and his talent's always been overshadowed by his mother, and he fell in with a bad crowd. Apparently he was caught in a hotel room with two rent-boys and about a pillowcase-full of heroin. He might have gotten away with that, but it turned out he'd been embezzling money from his mother to pay for his little habits. He would have gone to jail, but apparently the judge was a big fan, so he got put in here on grounds of addiction." Kowalski shook his head sadly. "Jail might have been preferable. He's far crazier and more drug-addled now than he ever was on the outside. I don't know what Dr Blauman's telling his mother, but it's not been good for him in here. And there are rumours the good doctor's bringing Julien into his office for more than just medical evaluations, if you get my drift."

"I can hear you, you know. I am not the sleeping yet." Julien giggled and half-sang _"Damn that nitrous oxide for when you can't escape! They say the surgeons oft commit a murder or a-"_

"Okay, Julien, no need to scare the new guy."

"Yeah!" snarled Rico, hugging Percy protectively. Percy yelped and squirmed out of his grasp.

"P-please don't do that," he murmured, shaking. Rico looked disappointed.

"Sorry about that. Rico's fond of kids – _not _in the way Savio in maximum security was, I mean. Rico's harmless, he's just out of practice." Kowalski patted Rico's back.

"I'm not a child anymore!" Percy protested, in the lofty manner of one who has yet to turn nineteen.

Rico shrugged. "Close 'nough." He ruffled Percy's hair and laughed gruffly. Percy had to admit, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. His father had ruffled his hair in the same way, back when he was alive, and he missed it.

"Stick close to Rico, try not to call attention to yourself, and you'll be fine."

"Aheh. Fine. Yeah." Percy wondered if he should tell them what he'd overheard. "Um, Professor, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"What exactly does a lobotomy involve? I mean, I know it involves cutting into your brain, but what does that do to you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I, uh, heard the doctor ... talking about it ..."

Rico grimaced and gestured to a bucktoothed, hollow-eyed man at the next table, who was staring blankly into space as he ate. His hand moved mechanically, bringing the oatmeal to his mouth as if he didn't notice he was doing so. The spoon scraped on the empty bowl, at which point he continued to stare at nothing and run the spoon in circles around the bowl like a bored child. Percy watched, horrified. There was nothing in the man's expression. He didn't seem unhappy, exactly, but he didn't seem anything else either.

"Of course, Fred's something of an severe case," Kowalski explained. "The result depends largely on how far and at what angle the pick is inserted into the brain. Often lobotomy patients remain reasonably functional, except for memory problems and some motor control difficulties. Sadly, it's impossible to tell how bad it will be until after the operation is done, and it's far easier to inflict more damage than intended than it is to inflict less. And there is of course the slight risk of the pick slipping and hitting something vital-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Percy said quickly, holding up a hand. Mercifully, a bell rang at that point, distracting him enough to stop him panicking. "What's that?"

"End of breakfast. Time for 'occupational therapy'," Kowalski said, rolling his eyes. "That basically means they make the patients who can be trusted not to fight back do chores so the staff don't have to and we're too tired to make trouble."

The patients were herded out of the dining room, through a confusing mess of corridors. The orderlies locked and unlocked doors as they went, leading them up and down stairs seemingly at random; ensuring, as Kowalski explained, that the patients couldn't find their way out if they tried to escape.

The morning's "occupational therapy" proved to be working in the hospital gardens. The patients who could be trusted not to use the tools as weapons tended a vegetable patch, which provided some of the hospitals' food supply, and the surprisingly beautiful flower garden. Percy had never tried to tend plants before, other than the houseplants he'd kept accidentally killing, but Kowalski worked beside him, showing him the ropes as they picked lettuce and dug up potatoes, under the watchful eyes of several orderlies. He tried to lose himself in the work, but he couldn't keep his mind off the reverberating fear. _Five days. Only five days._

Soon, he stood up to stretch and happened to glance back at the hospital door. He saw the green-eyed girl who'd smiled at him earlier standing in the doorway, one arm held firmly by a stocky redhaired nurse, Dr Stevens gently holding her other hand and leading her down the path. The girl tensed and struggled in the nurse's grip. "I-I don't think I can do this. Let me go back to my room."

"Come on, Miss Lee, if you don't try you'll never be able to go home. You want to go home, don't you?" The nurse gripped the girl's arm harder.

"No. Really. I don't want to do this," Miss Lee protested, hyperventilating. "Let me go back inside. Please take me back inside."

"Come on, just one more step, even a little progress is good ..." Dr Stevens said soothingly, gently pulling Miss Lee forward. The girl yanked backwards towards the door.

"Let me go!" She broke free of the nurse and hammered on the door, screaming and sobbing. "Let me in! Let me in! _Please let me in!"_

"Agoraphobia," whispered Kowalski, catching Percy's curious expression. "Poor Marlene can't take being outside. Pity. She's a lovely girl, she doesn't deserve to be here."

Percy watched as Dr Stevens motioned to the nurse to take the hysterical girl inside, and muttered "Who does?"


	3. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

**(Here we see the Delusion layer, the analogue to Babydoll's brothel in _SP_. The Fantasy layer with the steampunk zombies and such is coming up soon. Decided to include some Julien/Private, just because it's a rare pair ;) And I think it makes sense within the hallucinations. Julien's flirting makes "Percy" uncomfortable, so in Delusion, Lemur!Julien flirts with everyone so it doesn't matter.)**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Sweet Dreams are Made of These**

"It says here you lost your parents in a car accident six months ago, is that right?" Percy nodded and squirmed on the couch, staring up at the ceiling of Dr Stevens' office. "That must have been terrible." Percy nodded again. Dr Stevens continued, trying to coax him into speaking. "I'd imagine it still hurts a lot."

"Mm." Percy wanted to say something, anything, to please this beautiful woman who was doing her best to help him, but his mind was blank with terror.

"And then your uncle ... That must hurt as well."

"A bit. I think it should hurt more than it does," Percy managed to say. "All I feel right now is scared, and I feel horribly selfish for it."

"Oh, no, no! Never apologise for how you feel," Dr Stevens said, looking him in the eye. "I know you must be scared, and I think you're still in shock. Don't worry. I know it's going to hurt, but the sooner you start the grieving process, the sooner the pain will end. Well, that's not the right word – the pain of a loss so big doesn't just stop. But it'll hurt less as time goes by, and soon the happiness of the memories of them will be stronger than the pain of missing them."

Percy nodded. He'd had this talk from Uncle Nigel when his parents had died. It made sense, but now it couldn't sink in. All he could think of now was his own impending doom. _Four more days. Four more days. Four more days._

"Okay, now I'm just going to play some music." Dr Stevens turned on the gramophone, producing a soft, swirling tune. "I'd like you to listen to it. Just let it wash over you, and let yourself drift away ... Let it take you somewhere safe ... Somewhere you feel free ... Somewhere that feels like home ..."

* * *

The first night was hard. The cell on his left contained Rico, who coughed throughout the night, sometimes so hard he could be heard vomiting. Across the corridor was Julien, who spent half the night singing, changing from English to French to what sounded like an unidentifiable African language, and stamping or clapping in tune until he literally dropped from exhaustion, ignoring the man in the room next door to him, who beat the wall and screamed at him to shut up. The cell had no windows, so at least he didn't have to worry about the cold winds of the upcoming winter; he wasn't allowed blankets in case he used them for a noose. He lay on the narrow bed, afraid to roll over for fear of falling off it, certain he could hear rats in the walls. He hoped someone was feeding Princess and the lizards.

What had Dr Stevens said?

He closed his eyes. _Safe ... Free ... Home ..._

* * *

"Private! Wake up!"

"Ah!" Private rolled over and fell out of his bunk, landing painfully on the floor. His Lunacorn doll bounced off his head with a squeak. Skipper leaned over him, looking concerned.

"Private? Are you okay?"

"Um, yes, Skipper – sorry, just had a bad dream." Private rubbed his eyes with his flippers, shivering, and grabbed Princess Self-Respectra for comfort. He looked up, to see Rico and Kowalski looking curiously over the sides of their own bunks. Childish as it was, he couldn't help but feel a rush of relief at seeing them looking normal and unharmed. The sounds of the thumping boombox outside suggested Julien was fine as well. He still shivered as he remembered the human Rico's painful coughs, Julien's dazed giggling, Marlene's terrified screams – that dream had felt so _real ..._

Much to Skipper's surprise, Private hugged him. "Whoa, Private, what's this?"

"It was a _really _bad dream, Skipper," Private mumbled. Skipper sighed and patted his head indulgently.

"Aw, come on, Private. Let's get you some breakfast, you'll feel better on a full stomach."

Hot kippers did indeed boost Private's spirits, and he followed the other three up top with a new spring in his step. He waved to Julien in the habitat next door, and Julien waved back as he danced. Julien also seemed perfectly well and happy, much to Private's secret relief. He giggled as Mort waved to him as well, and hummed along briefly with the lively song they were playing.

"Hey, guys!"

"Marlene! You're okay!" Private ran forward and hugged the astonished otter.

"Whoa, it's nice to see you too, Private!" she said, hugging him back. "Sheesh, you only saw me yesterday, you can't have missed me that much!"

"Yeah, I just had a bad dream," Private muttered. "Everyone was all ... weird, and ill, and you were hurt."

"Aw, c'mon, Private, it was just a dream," Marlene cooed, stroking his feathers. "Ooh, don't take this wrong, but you're kinda fun to hug." She squeezed him gently around his plump middle, and he squeaked.

"Hey, Marlene, stop interrupting our drills!" Skipper said, firmly but not unkindly. "Don't coddle the boy, he just needs some fresh air."

"Good morning to you too, Skipper," laughed Marlene, used to the penguins' ways by now. "See you when you're less busy with your commando thing, then." She dived into the pool, back over the wall, and scurried home.

Skipper shook his head, smiling. "Ah, sweet naive Marlene. She always reminds us what we're fighting to protect, eh, boys? Well, come on, time for practice ..."

* * *

The bell rang, jolting Percy out of his sleep and causing him to fall off the bed. For a second, he glanced down at his hands, wondering when he'd sprouted fingers in place of feathers. _Wow, that was a weird dream._ He guessed it made some kind of sense, though; Dr Stevens had told him to think of something familiar and comforting, and his naturalist studies were the thing that had always made him happiest ... Despite himself, he smiled. A good night's sleep and happy dreams had helped take his mind off his waking nightmare, even if for a little while, and when he remembered the adorable animals and the protective Skipper and their funny adventures, he still couldn't help but cheer up a little.

At breakfast, Percy sat beside Kowalski again, near the end of the table, hoping nobody else would try to sit beside him. His hopes were dashed as Julien squeezed onto the end of the bench and merrily greeted him with a hug and a "Good morning, new neighbour!"

"G-good morning, Julien, it's lovely to see you again," said Percy, struggling free of the hug. "I'm sorry I got a bit carried away yesterday, I don't believe I told you my name."

"Ah, no matter, I never remember names anyway," said Julien airily.

"Oh. Well, just in case, my name is Percy."

"Percy," Julien said, rolling the sound of the word around in his mouth. "Nice name." He looked at Percy's bloodshot eyes and ruffled hair. "Aw, you are seeming sad. Nobody so nice should be sad." With a flick of his wrist, Julien slipped something out from inside his cuff and tucked it into Percy's hand. Percy looked, and was surprised to see it was a yellow lollipop.

"You get sweets in here?" he whispered.

"Dr Morris likes me – I write letters for his daughters, and he brings me treats sometimes. Hide it, okay? We're not supposed to have the candy."

Percy hid the lollipop in his sleeve and sniffed it. "Ooh, butterscotch! My favourite, thank you." He smiled at Julien, who giggled like a schoolgirl. Percy blushed and suddenly became very interested in his oatmeal. Julien quickly finished his own breakfast and sashayed away.

"If he's giving you his candy, either he _really_ likes you or Blauman's broken him more severely than I thought," Kowalski told Percy in an undertone. "You should have seen what a selfish little bastard he was when he first came here. _'You can't do this to me, don't you know who I am, my mother will hear about this' _..." Kowalski shuddered. "I feel terrible for saying it considering what's happened to make him this way, but he is easier to deal with now, even if he still won't shut up at night."

"Oh, I'm sure he can't have been that bad!" Percy said, then remembered the times he'd seen Julien on television or read the interviews with him in the newspapers. He _had_ come across as a bit of a spoilt braggart, but Percy had chalked it up to his family's fame. "Well, maybe he could, but he seems okay now. Though is he always that, er, touchy-feely?"

"A little. But what do you expect, he's half French."

"Hello there, new kid!"

Percy looked up in surprise to see Marlene Lee standing beside him. "My name's Marlene. I saw you yesterday, didn't get a chance to say hello. I thought you could use someone to talk to." She smiled comfortingly.

"Oh, I have some people to talk to," said Percy, gesturing to Kowalski and Rico, who waved. "But another's always welcome. Lovely to meet you, miss."

* * *

Percy's grip on the spade faltered, his soft fingers blistered. Rico dug smoothly and efficiently, humming occasionally in between coughing fits. Percy glanced around to make sure the staff weren't listening. They didn't seem to be; the orderlies on duty were standing well away from the patients, looking bored and conversing quietly. Percy tutted; not doing their jobs properly. Dad and Uncle Nigel would have had something to say about that. Still, it was convenient for him.

"Rico, can you keep a secret? What am I saying, of course you can," Percy said with a humourless chuckle. "I've got to tell someone or I really will go insane. I ... I was involved in my uncle's death. Purely an accident, I swear. I was only trying to help, I should have known I shouldn't use the gun. You believe I didn't mean to hurt anyone, don't you?"

Rico nodded, still digging, but looking at Percy and waiting for him to continue.

"B-Buck Rockford. He was there, he attacked my uncle and I tried to help. Then ... when I ... shot him ..." Percy choked back a sob, "Mr Rockford brought me here. And-and ... to make sure I can't turn him in at the trial ... h-he's paying Dr Blauman to ... lobotomise me."

Rico dropped the spade and stared at Percy, horrified.

"That's why I wanted to know yesterday. I only have four days left," Percy said, tears welling up. "Th-thank you for listening-"

Rico grabbed his arm and hauled him over to Kowalski, jabbering in something that sounded like Spanish, quietly enough for the orderlies not to hear and quickly enough to communicate urgency, both qualities making his actual words completely indistinguishable.

"Rico?" Kowalski dropped his own spade. "Rico, slow down! I can't understand you!"

Rico shoved Percy in front of him and snarled "Tell."

"Tell me what?" asked Kowalski, completely baffled.

"Nothing!" Private said in a trembling voice.

Rico turned him round, glared him right in the eye, and hissed _"Tell."_

Percy told. Kowalski's eyes widened in horror. Glancing around, he picked up his spade and continued to dig, motioning to the others to do the same. They ran to fetch their shovels and started digging beside him. Barely loud enough to hear over the sounds of moving earth, Kowalski hissed "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Well, why would I? I didn't know you earlier! And it's not like you can do anything to help anyway!" Percy whispered back.

"That's not true," Kowalski whispered.

Percy blinked. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Not here. We'll talk in the common room this evening. It's noisier than here and as long as we behave we won't be watched closely."

* * *

The common room was a big room full of little card-tables with hard wooden chairs, bolted to the floor so the patients couldn't throw them around. Packs of playing cards were available, though they had to be handed back and counted carefully by the orderlies at the end of the evening; according to Kowalski, the paint used on the cards could be used to make explosives. The patients were allowed paper and charcoal sticks – not pencils, for fear of causing injuries – for drawing, or writing letters home. A gramophone played quiet, forgettable music in the background. The orderlies stood around or sat at the tables on the outer edge of the room, watching for disturbances. Unlike most of the rest of the hospital, there were windows, welded shut and reinforced with steel mesh which obscured the view of the flower garden. Kowalski, Percy, and Rico claimed a table out of the orderlies' way, next to a table at which two other patients were having a noisy row, and shared out a pack of playing cards, occasionally shuffling them as if playing a game. The orderlies ignored the argument at the next table, waiting for it to turn to physical violence before they would intervene, so the group would not be overheard.

"You're getting out."

"What?" Percy forgot where he was and yelped aloud. He cleared his throat and spoke again, more quietly. "You want to help me escape?"

"No, I want to help _us_ escape." Kowalski placed his hand atop Percy's. "I'll do the best I can to help you, and if we pull it off, I'm coming with you. You'll need help on the outside."

"Hey, wha' 'bout me?" hissed Rico.

Kowalski sighed. "Okay, and you can come too, you big lug."

"I don't want to leave you behind, but won't more people make it harder to get out unnoticed?" Percy whispered.

"True, but on the other hand you need backup and, if worst comes to worst, decoys. We've been here years, we won't get much worse than a while in solitary if we get caught – the stakes are lower for us. I'm willing to stay here if I have to, to get you out."

Percy couldn't help but ask the next question. "Why? You don't know me, why are you risking yourself for me?"

"We _like_ ya, kid," Rico rumbled, patting Percy's head again.

Percy giggled. "Thank you. Thank you both."

"Well, hello, neighbours."

The three conspirators nearly jumped out of their skin, but it was only Julien, standing over them with a smug grin on his face.

"How did-" Kowalski spluttered.

"When I do not dance, nobody sees me." Julien sat down, straddling the chair and resting his chin on his hands. "And I can read lips, smarty man."

"Alright, alright, keep it down!" Kowalski hissed. "I suppose you want something in exchange for not snitching? What can we possibly give you?"

"I want in," Julien said, surprising all three of them. "Or out. Whatever, you know what I mean."

Kowalski glanced at Julien's trackmarks. "Um, are you sure you could-"

"I'm not _that_ addicted!" Julien snapped. "If I stay here I will die, I know it." His face took on a haunted look and he pulled up the edge of his shirt, exposing a nasty-looking handprint bruise on one jutting hip.

Percy flinched. _Looks like Kowalski's "rumours" were true. Poor fellow._ "Okay. I'll try to get you home."

Julien's eyes lit up; for the moment, Percy could see the beautiful young singer he'd been on the outside. Unfortunately, Marlene chose this moment to pop up behind Julien and say "Hey, guys, what are we talking about?"

"Oh, hello, Marlene." Julien turned around, but didn't wipe the smile off his face fast enough.

Marlene's eyes narrowed. "Julien, did they change your painkillers? I haven't seen you looking this happy since I came here."

"Oh, uh, it's ... nothing," Julien said unconvincingly. He looked pleadingly at the others. Kowalski and Rico glared sternly at him. "Oh, come on, it's Marlene, we can trust her!" he whispered.

"Trust me with what? I am standing right next to you, you know," Marlene told him, in a tone which suggested she shared Kowalski's opinion of Julien's mental faculties.

"Nothing!" Julien said again. "It's nothing ..."

"The doctor's going to lobotomise me in four days, so we're escaping," Percy said. "There. I trust you not to tell. If you don't want to be involved, go away."

"What?" Marlene sat down, Julien shuffling to the side of his seat to make room for her. "You can't seriously be thinking of running away! Where would you go?" she asked nervously.

"I don't know, but name me a place that could be worse than here."

"Here could get quite a lot worse if you get caught," Marlene objected.

"I know, but I'd still rather try and fail than sit and wait for the op."

"Good man," said Kowalski, smiling. "Everyone in?"

"I'm in!" growled Rico cheerfully, thumping the table. An orderly glanced in their direction and he grinned disarmingly, causing the man to back away in fright. Rico winked at the rest of the group.

"I'm in," said Julien. "I want to go home."

"Whoa!" Marlene raised her hands. "I get that you guys might need to leave, but I'm voluntarily committed! I can sign myself out as soon as I'm cured! I'll help you guys, but I'm not coming with you, okay?"

"That's all we require," said Kowalski, nodding.

Marlene looked at the table, then back up, looking thoughtful. "Actually ... I'll sneak some paper and write a letter to my parents. If you can get out, take the letter with you and head for California. They might be able to help you."

Percy beamed and hugged her. "Thank you, Marlene!" He turned to the rest of the group and smiled determinedly. "Okay. Operation Jailbreak is go."


	4. The Perfect Crime

**(Welcome to the Fantasy level. While the original brainstorm drawing I did showed them as humans, I decided to go with my friend kitsune106's suggestion and make them part-animal humanoids in the third level – think anime catgirls, except penguins. I know that's hard to picture, so there's further description in the fic. To reviewers who haven't seen _Sucker Punch_; Skipper is an analogue to the hallucinatory Wiseman, and so he isn't in the Asylum level. That doesn't mean he won't show up a lot in the overall fic, though – keep on watching. Also, go see _Sucker Punch_. Like, now. A lot of feminists hate it and I can see their point, but a) one of the most feminist girls I know loved it and I can also see her point, and b) it has STEAMPUNK ROBOT ZOMBIES AND MECHAS WITH BUNNY DECALS. And yes, my movie tastes are very very shallow.**

**While I'm using the shrine which was in the first dream sequence in SP, I don't want to use the same sequence settings for the future routines. In the movie, there were battle sequences in a steampunk World War 1 setting, an orc- and dragon-infested castle, and a train full of robots. Anyone got any suggestions for different weird battle settings?**

**Also, does anyone but me get a kick out of putting Julien and/or a human analogue of him through _really_ severe pain?)**

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Perfect Crime**

"Okay, men, this is the big one!" Skipper slammed a flipper down on the table. "This time, we're taking Dr Blowhole down for good!"

"Hooray!" Private clapped his flippers. The others glared at him, and he stopped. "Oh. Sorry, yes, I am taking this seriously. So, er, what's the plan, Skipper?"

Before Skipper could continue, a cheery greeting rang through the HQ; "Hello, friendly penguins!" King Julien slid down the ladder, landed with a neat pirouette, pranced over to Skipper, and hugged the annoyed penguin. "So what are my cute and cuddly neighbours doing?"

"That's classified, ringtail!" growled Skipper, pulling free of the hug.

"Hey, guys!" Marlene dropped through behind Julien. "What's up?" She saw the diorama on the table and hid a giggle. "You're playing with dolls' houses now?"

"It's not a doll's house!" snapped Kowalski, leaning over the diorama protectively. "This is classified information and you should leave right now-"

"Oh, I like the dolphin!" said Marlene, plucking the Dr Blowhole figurine from under Kowalski's flipper and examining it. "Funny little guy."

"He is not!" Kowalski snatched the figurine back. Julien leaned over his shoulder and caught sight of the figure.

"Hey, that's the crazy fishy guy!" Julien grinned as he reminisced. "Remember how I tricked him? He never did give me that jet ski either."

"W-wait, this is Dr Blowhole?" Marlene squinted at the model dolphin. "Aren't you guys taking this thing a little too far?"

Skipper took Marlene by the shoulders and stared her in the eye. "Marlene, Dr Blowhole is a genuine threat to the planet! If you don't believe us, come along on the mission and we'll show you what this deranged dolphin can do!"

Marlene looked thoughtful. "Yeah, okay. Show me."

"What?" Skipper jumped backwards. "No, no, no! This mission's no place for-"

"Women?" said Marlene sourly.

Skipper groaned. "Rookies. I was gonna say rookies."

"You said I should come along if I wanted proof. I'm coming. You think I can't handle myself?"

"What happens when you get outside? Remember what happened in the park?"

"Okay, I can't deal with open spaces, but you know I'm fine in the sewers or inside buildings. He's hardly going to be carrying on his _eeevil_ business in the open, is he? And even if he is, you know how tough my feral self is – you could use the extra firepower."

"Good point." Skipper tapped his chin. "Okay, we'll give it a shot, but I take no responsibility for this if it goes wrong."

"What about me?" Julien demanded. "I saved you last time! I'm coming too!"

Skipper pressed his forehead against the table. "Fine. Same rule applies to you, ringtail; if you die, don't blame me."

* * *

_The scene changes. Percival feels the snowflakes settling on his eyelashes. He is wearing only an evening suit of odd design, no warm coat, his shirt open at the neck under a loose cravat, bareheaded and barefoot. He feels the cold, but doesn't care. The icy breeze ruffles his hair. Shadowy figures surround him in the snow, but he senses no threat. The blunt claws and thick webs on his feet push the snow out of the way, the scales keeping out the bitter cold. He pulls his cravat tighter to keep the snow out of the downy patch on his chest. The stiffer feathers on his back and forearms bristle under his shirt._

_He hears crunching snow behind him and whirls around, dropping into a fighting stance, but it proves to be only four fellow pilgrims. Kowalski, glancing around warily; Rico, beaming and waving; and Julien huddling up to Marlene and shivering. Lemurfolk are not well-adapted to the cold. All of them wear variations on the evening dress worn by Percival; highly impractical for the cold weather, but traditional. Percival relaxes and waits for them to catch up. He grins, exposing the hard beaklike plates penguinfolk have in place of true teeth._

_"Took you long enough!" he says._

_"Hey, you may be meant for the snow, but we're equatorial breeds," Marlene objects, brushing snow from her whiskers with the hand not wrapped around Julien. Her rudderlike tail flicks behind her, under her tailcoat._

_"Speed up, then, it'll keep you warmer!" laughs Percival, leaping up the steps two at a time. Julien breaks away from Marlene and races him, both of them giggling. Rico joins them, catching them up but unable to outpace them. Kowalski and Marlene shake their heads and smile._

_The racers reach the top first, stopping to wait for their companions. It would be unthinkable to leave one of the group behind here. When all have caught up, they walk, slowly and reverently, towards the gates._

_The Temple has been a place of both worship and training for generations. It takes in any brave and determined enough to find their way to it, and sends out heroes. It is very beautiful. Snow slides from the gabled roof and sizzles in the lanterns outside._

_The pilgrims have to break the ice on the font outside the door. They wash their hands and feet, trying not to flinch at the cold. They will face far worse than a little discomfort. Side by side, they walk up the steps, and Percival pushes open the double doors. Blazing candlelight greets them, gleaming off the soft golden-coloured wood of the floors and walls. A dark-clad figure stands before the altar, his back to them. They know they make no sound, but he speaks without turning._

_"Welcome."_

_The figure turns slowly. Another penguinfolk, short and stocky but still imposing. His own tailcoat billows in the wind from the open door, and a captain's stripes are visible on his shoulder. The pilgrims kneel before him._

_"Are you the Skipper?" asks Percival, eyes cast modestly at the ground._

_"Some call me that," says the man. "Stand up. All of you. If you're worthy to be here in the first place, you don't have to bow." The pilgrims stand, and Skipper paces back and forth in front of them. "So, tell me. What is it you seek?"_

_"We seek freedom," says Percival immediately._

_"Good answer. Do you think you're worthy to find it?"_

_"We hope so."_

_"Good." Skipper lays his hand upon the floor. Something clicks, and a hidden panel opens. Beneath the panel is a stash of weaponry, of all nations and eras, oiled and polished, the guns fully loaded. "Choose your weapons."_

_Percival takes a katana and a sturdy revolver, and clips their sheaths onto his belt. Rico slings a huge axe onto his back and then, of course, picks up the largest machinegun he can find and cackles happily. Julien selects a pair of small sleek matching handguns, then picks up a naginata and twirls it around, leaping and twisting in practice battle. Kowalski polishes a longsword with his glove, then examines a carbine rifle. Marlene runs her hands possessively over a sniper rifle and a duelling sabre._

_Skipper nods. "Now. You will need to find five items to win your prize. A map; a fire; a knife; a key. The fifth is a mystery. All I can tell you is that it will be both a great sacrifice and a great victory, and that you will know it when you find it." He smirks and winks. "That's half the fun of a quest, am I right?"_

* * *

"Hey, Private! Snap out of it!" Skipper slapped Private upside the head in his usual officious manner.

"Ooh. Sorry, Skipper, I was ... nothing. So what do we have to do?"

Skipper spread out a blueprint on the table. "From what intelligence we have, or rather Kowalski has, been able to gather, his diabolical doomsday device is split into four parts, spread throughout the city, with a fifth and final activating device in his HQ. We have four days to find all the devices and destroy them before he finishes the activating device and, well, activates it. We don't know precisely what the device does, but if it's Blowhole, it's worth stopping." Skipper slapped his flippers down on the table and looked Marlene and Julien in the eyes. "Now I should warn you two that this mission is going to be dangerous. You may not come back alive. If you still want to join us, you can, but if you want to back out, I won't think less of you."

"No way, we're coming!" Marlene insisted. "You need all the help you can get!"

"I am not missing out on the fun!" Julien protested.

Skipper deflated. "Well, darn, I was hoping I wouldn't have to coddle a pair of rookies through a mission this big ..."

"Ah, you love us!" chuckled Julien, airily waving a paw.

"Fine, we're all in. Now we seal this the penguin way ..." Skipper raised his flippers. "High five!"

The six of them joined in a complicated high-five pattern, culminating with paws and wings clasped in a circle. The mission was on.

* * *

"Percy? Percy!"

Percy snapped back to reality as Marlene jabbed her nails into his hand. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You were miles away figuratively when we're trying to get you miles away literally! Pay attention, kiddo," she said with a grin.

"Um, actually, I was thinking, and ... I may have a plan," Percy said tentatively. "I don't know if it'll work."

"Any plan's better than none," said Kowalski. "Go ahead."

"Okay." Percy started to check the items off on his fingers. "First we'll need a map. We'll never find our way through that darn maze without one."

"There's a plan of the hospital in each of the doctor's offices, I can take one and use the copy machine if we can break in."

"Second, we need something to cause a distraction. Something big-"

"Fire!" Rico said gleefully before Percy could suggest it.

"Actually that's a really good idea, that would disable all the electric locks," said Kowalski, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. "But where will we get anything to start a fire with?"

"Blauman," said Julien unexpectedly. "When he's done with m-my checkups, he lets me smoke with him, and he uses matches, not a lighter. I'm due for another tomorrow afternoon, I can probably get hold of some."

"Excellent. And there's plenty of alcohol for wound-washing in the infirmary, that's suitably flammable. If we can break into the medicine closet nobody will miss one bottle." Kowalski looked at Rico, who smirked. "No, I'm not trusting you with the matches."

"Aww."

"Third, we need at least one weapon. A stick, a knife, anything we can use to defend ourselves if we get caught."

"I guess we could break into the kitchens and steal a knife," said Marlene hesitantly.

"And fourth, we'll need to get hold of the outer door key. We'll have to do that last, it's the item most likely to be missed so we'll save it for the very last minute."

Kowalski shook his head. "I don't know, it sounds like a terribly long shot."

"I know," said Percy. "But like you said, any plan is better than none."


	5. Half the Fun is to Plan the Plan

**Well, hope this one was worth the wait. Other things came up in real life, and I had the devil of a time deciding on the Fantasy level setting for this part of the plan. Settled for zombie pirates - everyone likes those, right?**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Half the Fun is to Plan the Plan**

"Do you know any good hiding places for the stuff? We should keep it in separate places," Percy mused. "That way, if some of it's found, the whole plan won't be ruined."

"There's a squeaky floorboard in my room," Marlene offered. "I think I can prise it up enough to stick something under it."

"I can push up one of the ceiling tiles in my room," Kowalski suggested.

"There's a loose seam in my mattress – that's where I keep my candy," Julien said.

"Bedframe," Rico grunted. "Hollow."

"Okay, that'll be fine. We only need to hide three things, we'll be getting out once we have the key."

"Four things," Julien pointed out. "For the fire we need the bottle and the matches, remember?"

"Okay, get as many matches as you can sneak out, and we'll share them out," Percy told him. "If one of us gets caught, don't mention the others' names, and they won't look for the other stuff. We might still all be able to get out if one of us is caught, but not if all of us are." The others nodded.

The bell rang, and the orderlies started herding the patients out of the common room. "Okay, tomorrow, then," Kowalski said, no longer whispering. "See you all at breakfast."

As they walked out, Percy looked at Julien's hip, remembering the bruises he'd shown them. "Julien, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked in an undertone. "You don't have to get the matches. I'm sure we can find some other way."

"No, I'll do it. I am going to end up in his office anyway, I can at least do something useful when I'm there. It's okay, I can handle it." Julien smiled briefly. "Actually, this might help. I feel better knowing I will be outsmarting him. Think of it as a game, maybe."

"Good man." Percy patted Julien's back. "I really am sorry about this, but with luck, this'll be the last time."

Julien looked sideways at Percy. "You know, I am older than you, I have been here longer, and I am not the one heading for an unwanted operation. Why are _you_ being protective of _me?"_

Percy shrugged. "You seem to need it more than I do."

The night felt less threatening than the last one. Perhaps it was because they had a solid plan and some hope. Perhaps it was because this time Percy knew that he could simply close his eyes and take himself away. Julien still sang, but this time it was comforting, not eerie as it had been last night. Julien's voice was pleasantly deep and soothing, and now he actually sounded happy. If Percy listened, he could pick out the lyrics. He hummed along until he fell asleep.

_"The Gospel Train's a-comin', I hear it just at hand, I hear the car wheel rumblin' and rollin' through the land ..."_

* * *

"Okay, Marlene, are you absolutely sure you're ready?"

"No, but I'd better be. We're probably not going to get another chance at this." Marlene scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal and dropped it back in the bowl. "Kowalski, are you sure you can get there in time?"

"Yes, I worked it out." Kowalski tapped his fingers on the table. "I'm on corridor-cleaning duty today, and the orderlies trust me enough not to watch me every minute, and I know Dr Stevens never remembers to lock her office – Dr Blauman's told her off about that a couple of times."

"Good." Marlene turned to Percy, a look of concern on her face. "Hey, Perce, are you okay? You look tired."

"Um, yes, I'm fine. Julien's been keeping me awake," said Percy, at a normal volume now they were onto a more innocent topic. Julien snickered. Percy glared.

"Ah, I see. Snorer or screamer?" Marlene asked, nodding knowingly.

"Singer, actually."

"Ooh." Marlene winced in sympathy. "We've got one of those in the women's block too. Look on the bright side, at least I know Julien sings better than Rhonda does."

"Damn right!" said Julien smugly.

Marlene rolled her eyes. "How are you _still _such a braggart?"

"Because I'm Julien Kingsley, _cherie._ I still have plenty to brag about!"

A short plump doctor with hair and beard the colour and texture of steel wool, whom Percy recognised vaguely from his first morning, heard Julien's voice and bustled up to the little group. "Kingsley! How are you?"

"Fine, Dr Morris, just fine," said Julien with a winning smile. "How are you and your little ones?"

"We're all doing great, thanks – the girls want me to thank you for the signed record. Oh, and don't forget, you have an appointment with Dr Blauman at four. Keep up the good behaviour and we'll soon be weaning you off the morphine permanently. That'll be a relief, huh?" he said, slipping something into Julien's hand; specifically, something that looked like a pink lollipop.

"Aheh. Yeah." Julien grinned awkwardly and hid the sweet in his sleeve.

"No need to be embarrassed, Mr Kingsley. Plenty of folks fall off the straight and narrow once in a while, it's our job here to get you back on." Dr Morris nodded to the others. "Miss Lee, you're seeing Dr Stevens this morning, aren't you? Good, good. See you all around." He smiled and walked off, hands in the pockets of his white coat, humming a lively jazz tune Percy recognised as one of Madame Kingsley's.

Julien winced. "Nice enough guy, but I don't think I'll miss him when I leave," he whispered.

* * *

This morning, Percy was on indoor cleaning duty instead of gardening. Fortunately, he and Kowalski were working on the floor on which Dr Stevens' office was located. If all went well, Kowalski would be coming downstairs at lunchtime with the map. Percy lurked around the corner from the doctor's office, scrubbing brush in hand, watching the doctor wait patiently for Marlene to be ready.

"Miss Lee, I hate to push you, but at this rate our hour will be over before we get anything done," Dr Stevens said in an attempt at her usual upbeat manner. Percy got the impression Marlene was starting to try her patience a little.

"Okay. Okay," Marlene breathed deeply. "I can do this. I gotta do this ... I can't do this!" Marlene tried to run, but Nurse Alice grabbed her arm.

Dr Stevens sighed. "Okay, if you don't feel up to going outside today we can just have another counselling session," she said, opening her office door. "Come on."

Percy seized his chance, dropping the mop and darting forward. "Wait!" Doctor, nurse, and patient turned in surprise to see him. "I-I can help!"

"Really?" Dr Stevens looked at him, raising one neat blonde eyebrow in a manner which made Percy blush like a forest fire and shuffle his feet.

"Um, I mean ... Marlene and I are becoming friends, perhaps I could provide moral support?"

"Hey, that's a good idea!" Marlene said, nodding enthusiastically.

"Doctor, I don't recommend this," said Nurse Alice. "I can't control two patients at a time."

"Oh, come on, Alice, when has Miss Lee ever _needed_ to be controlled?" said Dr Stevens, tutting. "And Mr Snow has been a model patient as well. I'm sure there'll be no problem. Come along, then!"

Percy held his breath as Dr Stevens took Marlene's hand and he followed them and Nurse Alice down the corridor. His prayers were answered; Dr Stevens did not turn back to lock her office door. As they passed Kowalski near the stairs, Percy winked to him. The plan was under way.

* * *

"Okay, men – and woman," Skipper said, nodding to Marlene. "Our first objective is the closest. That scum Blowhole has managed to get the first part of his diabolical device into our very own zoo, right under my beak! I swear to you all, we will _never _let him get away with that again. It's in the veterinary hospital – the evidence is that he sneaked it in with one of the humans. Our job is to get in there, find it, and destroy it. If we can work out what it does, that's a bonus. Now, obviously, the first step is to get the humans out of the way. Kowalski, options?"

"I suggest Rico and I take care of the device while someone else provides a distraction," said Kowalski, scribbling on his clipboard. "I recommend that the distraction is provided by Marlene and Julien."

"Wait, why do I have to be the distraction?" Marlene asked.

"Do you want to be in the near vicinity of a machine which we don't have time to train you how to disarm and which could potentially explode and kill you if it's mishandled?" asked Kowalski, raising an eyebrow.

"Distraction it is. I can do distraction." Marlene giggled nervously.

Julien scoffed. "Not as good as I can do it. Distraction is my middle name!"

"I didn't know you had a second name," said Marlene, raising an eyebrow.

Skipper cleared his throat and said "Focus, people."

"Ahem. Okay, yes, distraction," said Julien, clicking his heels and saluting gracefully, if sarcastically. "Any specific requests for distractions?"

"Breakout should do it," said Skipper, spreading out the map over the table and pointing to the veterinary hospital. "Marlene, we know it's your day for a vet checkup. We fixed the lock on the carrying cage in advance. Once Alice takes you out of the hospital this afternoon, you should be able to open the cage from the inside. Once you've done that, go nuts. If you feel up to it, get outside the zoo. Recapturing feral you should keep her busy."

"What about me? You need me, right?" said Julien ingratiatingly, clambering over the table and hanging off the very annoyed Skipper. "What about meeeee?"

"Get off!" Skipper shoved Julien, causing the ringtail to land painfully on his rump.

"Oww! Hey, you damage the booty, I won't be shaking it for this job."

"I don't care, as long as you find some way to keep the vets occupied. They should come out of the hospital when Alice starts yelling, if not you can go in through the window. I guess you can take it from there. Just make sure we can get in unhindered."

"Got it, bossy penguin." Julien winked and raised his paw for a high-five. Skipper obliged.

"Okay, boys – and girl. You all know your parts. Make me proud!"

* * *

_"Julien, stop that, you're going to break the shaft."_

_Julien sticks his tongue out at Kowalski, dangling upside-down by knees and tail from his carefully-balanced naginata. He drops to the ground and slings the weapon onto his back, producing one of his trademark lollipops from his sleeve. "So is the Skipper going to arrive any time soon? I'm getting bored." He slinks up to Marlene and hangs off her, making puppy eyes. "Boooooorrrred, I am telling you."_

_The otterfolk shoves him away. "Quit it! He'll be here."_

_They sense it, not so much a sound as a change in the texture of the air. All five leap up, weapons at the ready, to see Skipper emerging from the shadows, clapping slowly. "Nice reaction time, kids. C'mon, we have a mission ahead."_

_The storm is rising around their perch atop the cliff. The wind ruffles their hair and feathers, and Percy feels raindrops landing on his cheeks and hands. Skipper has to raise his voice to be heard over the gale._

_"Okay, kids, our objective today is the shipwreck down below!" He waves over the side of the cliff; they look down, to see a deep cave in the cliffside and pieces of splintered wood tossed on the growing waves. "The good ship _Revenge_, pride and joy of the Pirate King! Within that ship is a chest, and within that chest is a map! A map which, so it's said, will lead to untold riches! It's our job to get it for the Temple before the Pirate King's followers can retrieve it!"_

_Marlene raises an eyebrow. "Isn't this the ship which is supposed to be haunted by the walking corpses of its former crew?"_

_"Why, are you scared?" asks Julien, in a mildly mocking tone._

_"Of course not! Just wondering if we need the special ammo," says Marlene, patting her gun affectionately. "What is it for ghouls? I know silver's werewolves ..."_

_Kowalski pushes his goggles up the bridge of his nose. "I suggest we go for the impact explosives. Those fix most things."_

_Skipper nods. "Good man, Kowalski. Load up!"_

_"Whoo!" Rico cheers, twirling his axe around his head as if it weighs nothing._

_The group swing their guns off their shoulders or pluck them from their holsters and press the appropriate keys on the handle to set them with the explosive ammunition. Percy reflects that magically-enhanced weapons have their perks; for one thing, they never run out of ammo at a bad moment, and not having to carry fresh rounds saves a lot of weight. They check the guns' mechanisms, test their blades' edges, stretch their muscles._

_"Ready?"_

_"Ready, Skipper!" the group shout back with a salute. Skipper spins around with a swirl of his coat and steps to the edge of the cliff, the wind threatening to pull him out into the air. He turns back to face them._

_"One last thing!" he shouts. "I know it's our first official mission, but you've been trained to work as a team! Try to keep that up! A mission is like the Omega Boom attack; it can be done solo, but it works much smoother with a few more along! Got it?"_

_The group nod determinedly. "Yes, Skipper, of course!" Percy says, beaming and puffing his chest out proudly._

_Skipper smiles, and leaps out into space, coat billowing behind him. With no hesitation, the group follow._


End file.
